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Black Raven's Lady by Kathleen Harrington
This exciting conclusion to the popular Highland Lairds Trilogy features a runaway lass and the laird who will do anything to protect her.
Feisty
Lady Raine Cameron has been surrounded her whole life by gossip claiming she is
not her father's daughter. Determined to find her true heritage, the
dark-haired beauty boards the Black Raven under false pretenses in search of
the man who she believes is her father, a man who is also a traitor to
Scotland. Only the Black Raven himself stands in her way…
Laird
Keir MacNeil has a reputation for being a ruthless and powerful ship captain.
On a mission to apprehend Scotland's most wanted traitor, he never expected to
see Raine on his ship. Keir vows to keep Raine out of harm's way and return her
to her family untarnished. But as his lust for her grows, he must choose
between honor and the woman he never expected to desire.
Read an excerpt from Black Raven's Lady:
(used with permission)
PROLOGUE
June 1504
Archnacarry
Manor
Western
Highlands
“Come away with me tomorrow, Nina,” the
dark-haired man implored. “Meet me here at daybreak, and we’ll flee together.
If you love me, dearest, come with me.”
His deep
brown eyes filled with tenderness, he drew the beautiful lass close and kissed
her tenderly on the forehead, then used the edge of the yellow-and-black tartan
pinned to his shoulder to wipe away her tears.
“My father
has received an offer of marriage for me from Laird Cameron,” Nina replied, her
voice shaking with fright. “Should I run away with you, Torcall, my parents
might never forgive me. Perhaps, if we pleaded with them together, they would
understand how much in love we are.”
“I can’t
wait any longer, dearest,” Torcall said. “The king has pronounced my father a
traitor and with him all our clan. I must go and help defend our home and our
lands.”
Nina
clutched his strong hand in both of hers and brought his fingers to her lips.
Her hair, a stunning red-gold, gleamed in the forest’s dappled sunlight. “Oh,
Torcall, I do love you so.”
“Don’t be
afraid, darling lass,” he told her, his voice ringing with the optimism of
youth. “We’ll go to Steòrnabhagh. My father’s castle on the Isle of Lewis is
impregnable. We’ll be married there. One day I’ll be chief of Clan
MacMurchaidh, Nina, and I will give you all the things I so long to give.”
She smiled,
her blue eyes filling once more with tears. “Your love is all I need, my dear,
and all I want.”
Torcall
hugged her close, then bent his head to place a gentle kiss on her lips.
“You’ll meet me here tomorrow, then?” he asked. “You’ll run away with me?”
Nina
nodded, a smile curving her lips. “Aye, I’ll flee with you, Torcall. I’ll meet
you here, right by
this tall pine tree, when the sun rises tomorrow.”
In the
faint light of the following morning, the glen where the couple had stood
seemed to wait in hushed anticipation of the coming dawn . . .
Her heart
pounding, Raine awoke with a start and stared at the bed’s canopy above her
head. She’d first had the dream when she was fourteen years old. The year after
her father, Gideon Cameron, had been murdered. Raine knew it wasn’t an ordinary
dream. ’Twas a vision of her mother and Raine’s natural father.
~
CHAPTER ONE
“Then you’ve made up your mind,” Aunt Isabel
said.
Raine
looked up from her packing to see her aunt enter the bedchamber and quickly
close the door behind her.
Isabel’s
eyes twinkled mischievously. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to
prevent this foolhardy escapade?”
Raine
returned to the task of shoving her journal, containing remedies for everything
from gout to the relief of painful menses, into the leather satchel that held
her herbal concoctions. “You won’t say anything until I’m gone?”
Isabel
lifted her plump shoulders, but the smile curving her lips assured Raine of her
intent to keep her own counsel. At least for the moment. “What exactly do you
have planned, my dear?”
It was
Raine’s turn to shrug. “All I know for certain is that I’m going to find my
father.”
“Your
father is buried in the kirk cemetery,” Isabel chided softly. “He was a brave
and honest man.”
“Gideon
Cameron was brave and honest and noble,” Raine agreed. “No one could have asked
for a better father. But you and I both know, Aunt Isabel, that your older
brother was not the man who sired me.” Raine knelt and reached under her bed to
pull out a canvas bag.
“Have you
tried asking your mother again?” Aunt Isabel suggested.
Raine gave
a soft snort. Every time she’d touched on the subject, Lady Nina had reacted
with swift admonishments, scolding Raine for even hinting that Gideon wasn’t
her father. Though they loved each other dearly, the matter had caused a
feeling of estrangement between mother and daughter.
“What
should I say?” Raine asked. “Oh, by the by, Mama, I’m quite certain that you
deceived the honorable man you married, and I was the by-blow of that
traitorous liaison?”
“Don’t be
too harsh in judging your mother, dearest,” Isabel admonished. “We mortals
cannot choose with whom we fall in love. Why, even the faery folk show very
limited willpower when it comes to their romantic proclivities.”
“Perhaps
not. But we can resolve to act with honor and dignity. We’re not chained by our
baser inclinations.”
Isabel sank
down on the feather mattress, picked up a velvet gown, and started to fold it.
Traces of oatmeal rested on her shoulders, sprinkled there to ward off the
faeries. Bits and pieces fell on the smooth red velvet. “Where will you begin
to look, Raine? Have you had another vision?”
Raine sat
back on her heels and closed her eyes. “Not a vision, really. Well, sort of.”
Bowing her head, she buried her face in her hands. “I’m not sure what I saw.” She
looked up and met her aunt’s worried gaze. “But of one thing, I’m certain. If I
don’t go now, ’twill be too late. I’ll never meet my father.”
Isabel
nodded in understanding. “You could be heading into danger, child,” she
cautioned. “Seeing what’s going to happen in a vision doesn’t mean you can
prevent it. Quite the contrary.”
“I’ll be
traveling with a group of Poor Clares who leave this morning from St.
Margaret’s Nunnery. They’re to set up a hospital in Inverness dedicated to
Saint Columba. They’ll carry the saint’s finger bone with them for protection.”
Relief
washed over Isabel’s round features. “Still,” she said, “perhaps you should
take a strong servant to guard you.”
“The nuns
will have a retinue of servants with them,” Raine reassured her. “Should it
become necessary, I can hire a bodyguard at Moray Firth, until I can board the
ship. But where I’m going, there’s only one man who can protect me.”
Isabel
nodded, her hazel eyes filled with compassion. “You speak of Keir MacNeil, of
course.”
Raine swallowed
painfully. The thought of having to ask the chief of Clan MacNeil for help
nearly choked her. “Of course.”
“Well,
darling of my heart, if you were a voluptuous female of questionable repute,
MacNeil would most likely hasten to your assistance. At the very least, you’d
have his complete attention for the space of an evening. But as it is . . .”
There was
no need for Lady Isabel to point out the fact that Raine’s figure lacked the
curves so admired by the opposite sex. Her aunt raised her brows in calm speculation.
“Since the two of you have never gotten along, I have to wonder why you think
he’ll agree to help you find the man who sired you.”
“Pooh,”
Raine countered. She pursed her lips and scowled. “Who could get along with The
MacNeil? He’s loud and rough and a a braggart. He’s totally unlike his half
brothers, Rory and Lachlan. Besides, the stubborn dolt has no belief whatsoever
in magic.”
Isabel
chuckled. “Well, Keir’s certainly no beauty, I grant you that. He doesn’t come
close to matching Lachlan MacRath’s astonishing good looks and courtly manners.
Nor Rory MacLean’s regal attractiveness.”
Raine
looked away in an attempt to hide her feelings from her astute aunt. Since the
summer she’d turned seventeen, Raine had fought an inexplicable attraction to
Keir MacNeil. ’Twas a purely physical attraction. One she was determined to
squelch, for the notorious womanizer seduced and discarded mistresses the way
other men tossed out their stained shirts.
She rose to
her feet and tossed the canvas bag on the bed beside her aunt. “Don’t bother
folding that fancy gown, Auntie,” she said with a rueful smile. She bit her
lower lip and blinked back the sudden tears that pooled in her eyes. “There
won’t be dancing where I’m going. A few plain dresses will have to do.”
“Still,”
her aunt said with a loving smile, “a lady should always take a few pretty
gowns with her whenever she travels.”
Raine
nodded and stuffed the red velvet along with several others into her bag.
“Pray,
don’t be afraid, sweetie,” Isabel said in a hushed tone. “I believe ’tis your
destiny to discover the identity of your natural father and learn why he left
your mother while she carried his bairn. Be brave, niece, and do not falter.”
Raine sat
down beside Lady Isabel, who immediately put an arm around her shoulders.
“Sometimes,”
Raine said,” I think I’m foolish searching for him, when he’s
never made any attempt to find me.
Perhaps he doesn’t even know I exist. He may
deny that I’m his daughter.”
“You will
never know the truth,” Isabel said, “unless you’re brave enough to search for
the answer.”
It was
barely dawn. The faint morning light peeked through the partially drawn
curtains. Raine intended to leave the manor grounds before sunrise on the
pretense of an early-morning ride. A sinking feeling churned in the pit of her
stomach. ’Twas a ride from which she might never return.
She’d be
traveling into the center of a storm.
War had
come to the Highlands.
Six months
before, Donald Dubh, the illegitimate son of Alexander Macdonald, the last high
chief of the Isles, had been rescued from imprisonment in the island fortress
of Innischonaill. A band of Macdonald clansmen had made their way unobserved
through the heart of Campbell country, rowed silently across Loch Awe, rushed
the castle, and freed its nineteen-year-old prisoner. He was immediately
proclaimed lord of the Isles. The whole of the Hebrides rallied to his cause.
Nearly every Macdonald in the Highlands and Isles, and their allies with them,
rose up in rebellion against James Stewart.
The king of
Scotland had designated Laird Keir MacNeil master and commander of a squadron
in the royal fleet. The king had commissioned him to help put down the
rebellion. Keir’s stated goal was to capture the traitors and bring them to
Edinburgh for trial and hanging. One of those traitors was the man Raine
believed to be her natural father, Torcall MacMurchaidh.
She had to
reach him before Keir.
“I have
something to give you,” Aunt Isabel said with an encouraging smile. She placed
a smooth stone which had been chiseled into the shape of a heart in Raine’s
palm. Uncounted years before, the stone had been engraved in an ancient
language, incomprehensible today to most people. Only those familiar with the
riddles and enchantments of the Tuatha De Danann—the faery race—could discern
its meaning.
Raine
brushed her thumb across the strange symbols. “What does it say?”
“ ’Tis a
rune for your safety, my dear. Keep it with you at all times.” Isabel reached
down and lifted a richly embroidered purse, filled with coins, off the
bedcovers. She pulled the cords loose and dropped a handful more into the bag.
“Here’s a few more gold unicorns to take with you, dear heart.”
Raine
nodded as she placed the rune carefully inside her purse and fastened it on her
girdle. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, she rose from the bed and held out
her hands. Her aunt took them in her firm grasp and moved to stand beside
Raine.
“When you
reach the Isle of Lewis,” her aunt said, “you must go to the stones of wonder
at Calanais. I’ve told you much about them, but you should visit the temple to
the Mother of the Universe yourself.” Isabel clasped Raine by the shoulders and
kissed her forehead. “I, too, have had a vision, my dear. I believe you will
remain safe as long as you stay with Keir. ’Twill be very important that you
are not separated from him during your journey.”
Raine
slowly shook her head. “I don’t think the chief of Clan MacNeil will be
agreeable to my hanging on to him like a bawling halflin.”
The picture
that came to mind made them both laugh.
Laird Keir
MacNeil was the most formidable warrior in the whole of Scotland. And beyond.
About the Author:
Kathleen Harrington
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Kathleen Harrington, winner of the Colorado Romance Writers' Award of Excellence, has touched the hearts of readers across the country with her sparkling tales of high adventure and unending love. Her historical romances have been finalists for Romance Writers of America's RITA® Award, the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice, Virginia Romance Writers' HOLT Medallion, and the Phoenix Desert Rose Golden Quill. Her fabulous heroes have garnered the K.I.S.S. (Knight in Shining Silver) Award. She lives in Southern California.
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Black Raven's Lady by Kathleen Harrington is available today in eBook format and on November 25th in paperback. You can get your eBook copy today at one of the following book retailers:
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